


Dearest

by Vimini



Category: Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gen, M/M, Movie: Halloween (2007), RZ's Michael, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22184443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vimini/pseuds/Vimini
Summary: Anonymous requested: May I request a RZ Mikey finally finding his childhood friend (s/o) that he loved and used to play with and protect before he was taken away? Like they were so sweet and kind and missed him so much when he left.
Relationships: Michael Myers/Reader, Michael Myers/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 94





	Dearest

As the man stood on the street, eyes focused at the stars shining above him, he heard a soft hum in his ears. The rush of blood, fading, replaced with the howling of the chilling autumn wind, the playing of crickets in the grass, and a faint sound of an alarm going off in the sanitarium behind him.

He looked down to his hands, red, coating them fully, gore stuck under his fingernails, but they felt light, without the drugs in his veins, left unchained, unbound and as his messy, dirty blond hair was moved along with the breeze, tickling his neck, he realized that he was, for once, free.

And for a moment it overwhelmed him, the space, the air, the wind, the stars, the clarity of his mind, as his brain processed his situation, no more drugs, no more nurses, no more Loomis, no more emptiness, he didn’t have to pretend anymore, didn’t have to wander with his mind to pass the hours, days, months, following a schedule that they set for him, he didn’t have to listen to their tired voices, to the hateful names that they threw at him under their breath, thinking he was drugged too hard out of his mind to hear them. There was no more “Mikey”, there was “Michael”, free from his prison, free to do as he pleased. What a good feeling it was.

His head shoot up for a moment, his hand reaching out to search for something in his pocket, almost frantic, his breath stopping as he found it, a small picture with him and what used to be his closes family on it, his thumb passing through his little sister’s face, slowly, with love and longing. That, he told himself, organizing his mind, would be his priority, he had to get the family back together. Find Boo, somehow let her know it’s him, he knew her name, knew where she lived, he just had to get there, just had to…

Suddenly his ears rang, a high pitched noise making him wince, it was unpleasant, distracting, but he knew what it meant. He needed to rest above all, let the things they’ve been forcing him to take get out of his system, needed a safe space, but where?

His house was out of question, it was sad, but he knew that would be the first place they’d check once the police realize he’s the one who escaped.

_Just get to Haddonfield._ His mind settled and he allowed himself to sigh for once, there was nobody around, it was fine, for once it was just fine.

* * *

To say his mind was wandering would be an understatement, no, it was an unstable concoction, filled with plans, feelings, thoughts, and memories, the last he needed to focus on the hardest as he made his way through the grass fields and then forest, trying to recall how he got to that cursed prison in the first place, it was with a car, an officer pulling up to the sanitarium with him inside the back seat, silent, observing his surroundings, half-aware of everything, the anger he felt before he killed his father, sister and her boyfriend slowly fading then, being replaced with a silent fear.

_All he wished for then was to just go home, to his mother, his little sister, he wouldn’t even mind going back to school. With his father and sister gone there would be just so much less for him to worry about, school would be just a side noise, something to grind his teeth through and come back home, to his little darling sister, to his loving mother, to his family._

_But they had to lock him up._

Michael had no real sense of time as he walked, just a goal and a general idea of direction, and a truck wash slowly crawling it’s way into his vision. Good.

_He tried his damn best to please the doctor in the beginning, answering his questions truthfully, hoping he would understand, but all too quickly did he realize that no one really cared for what he said. So at one point he just went silent, why talk, when nobody listens? It was easy too, even if Loomis was impressed by his ability to not utter a single word in 15 years._

_“Learn to live inside your head…” the orderly said something like this to him all those years in the past, so that’s just what he did, memories of his past running on repeat, mixing with the every day talk of the nurses, the screaming of other patients, the eventual alarms or music, stopping only when he was sat down in front of his doctor. He listened to him, didn’t react, just out of pure curiosity, because that damned fool liked to run his mouth and sometimes a few things would slip out. Things he could use.  
_

The grayed blue coveralls kept him warmer against the autumn wind and the boots made walking less tedious. He did have to leave a body behind for them, but that was good, something to distract the police, so there would be less looking for him. He’d figure that they knew he was gone by now, so if they get just a few more places to check for him, what’s the problem? He’d be long gone before the report came, anyways.

_Between the memories of his abusive father, his neglectful sister and his mother and little Boo’s smiles, there was another thing that would run by a bit foggier, he could never grasp it fully, too focused on his rage and longing, but it was there. A face, a smile, a pair of gentle hands helping him up from the ground, their voice angry, but not at him, someone else, one of the louder, antagonizing voices, but one that he had already shut up in the past._

_That memory was getting stronger now, the closer he got home, he could feel it._

As the warm lights of Haddonfield brightened the dark night from afar, Michael’s heart tightened. He hadn’t even realized. 

The little light shows on all the houses, the running children, dressed as monsters, the carved pumpkins and those fallen leaves that crunched under his boot as he walked through the forest, knowing well enough that if anyone saw him, there would be a cause for alarm. He broke into one of the first houses, chocking out a woman’s life the moment her mouth opened to scream. And the realization hit him even harder as he noticed the fake cobwebs on the ceiling, the fake zombie on the corner that bobbed it’s head when pressed, Michael’s lip twitching in an amused smile under his mask at the sight. It was Halloween. 

What irony that those idiots would get him a chance to get out of his prison on the anniversary of his arrival there.

_“You always get in so much trouble, Mikey!”_ the voice rang in his head as he stalked the neighborhood, snuffing people’s lives one by one, just to stay hidden for everybody else.   
“ _I don’t want to… they’re just idiots…”_ His kid self replied and the shyness he felt back them hit him even now as he stood starring at his old house in the distance, from a safe space between the trees. It was run down, empty, the wood darkened a lot during those 15 years and he could see how close everything was to collapsing, but it still made him somewhat calm to look at it. 

There was no police around, not yet, no noise that would point to them either, no cars. So going against his first plan, he went inside. 

The board creaked under his weight, but he couldn’t blame them for complaining, he wasn’t unaware of how much he’d grown during those years, it wasn’t their fault. 

_“Geez, 2 inches?! How could you!” they laughed, giving him a slight push, but he didn’t return it, just giggling instead. “AND you’re going soft on me?!” they seemed offended now, their cheeks inflating and brows furrowing.  
“What?” he asked back, confused at their anger, only to be pushed again, this time letting himself wobble onto the floorboards with a fake huff. “What did I do?!” he laughed back at them, seeing them stand above him, arms crossed under their tiny chest.   
“You think I can’t handle you just because you’re 4 inches taller than me, Myers?” they squinted at him and he felt his cheeks burning up slowly.  
“N…Yeah… I mean…” he stuttered, God, was he horrible with words.  
So it was a blessing when they reached out to him, helping him up like they did so many times, even if he noticed that their pull was much weaker than his own now, but it was good, they’ve protected him for so long, it was his turn to do the same.  
“It’s fine, Mikey…! I was joking!” they smiled and he felt his stomach clench, nervous like never. “Really. I mean… at least you can reach for Mr.Bernard next time my sister puts him on the fridge!”.  
“Y-yeah… I could.” he returned their warm smile and felt his body wobble again as they pushed him playfully. This time, he did the same.  
_

The wooden board gave to the pull his fingers finally and he reached deep in, pulling out the thing he had hidden all those years ago, a white latex, a bit rougher in his fingers, or were they rougher themselves? He couldn’t really tell. The mask that he killed his sister in. He was glad to see it was still good to use. He’d need it, the paper one on his face was already giving in because of all the blood.

_“Mikey?” they seemed a bit quiet today, so their voice made him shoot up, blue eyes starring deep into theirs._  
 _“Yeah?”_  
 _“Why do you always wear those things? I mean, they’re nice but…”_  
 _“I… They make me feel less ugly…” his head lowered, followed by the slump in his shoulders._  
 _“Huh…” they sighed, taking his mask off their face and he was happy for that, they were too cute to wear them anyways. “But Mikey… You’re pretty anyways…”_  
 _And the sincerity in their voice made him put on another mask, one made of his hands, hidding his reddened face in a hurry. How could they be so cruel?!_  
  
Standing in the thicket he had a perfect view of the next house, the one he knew she was in, they called her Laurie now and she wasn’t alone in there, there was another girl that he didn’t know and he knew that would be a problem, but his mind was made.

Or at least he thought so, that is, before noticing somebody else, heading out from the same building Laurie was in.

They’ve grown, but not as much as him, and he could see that their hair still refused to obey their wishes, and their eyes seemed a bit more tired, but he could tell, it was them, it was you, the same that would protect him so many times, show him kindness, try to understand him when everybody else would just throw insults at him. You’ve changed so much, yet as he looked at your smiling face the same flare rose in his heart, the same longing to be next to you, to embrace you, to call your name.  
And he almost did, but the burning in his throat stopped him, muscle on the brink of collapse, throwing him into a coughing fit that he tried so hard to cover and he realized that, maybe, just maybe, becoming a mute was a mistake. 

* * *

“Thank you for having me over, Laurie…” your tired face lighted up at the blonde girl and she shook her head, returning your warmth in kind.  
“No problem, (Y/N). I’m still mad that your mother would make you watch her house on a night like that. I mean, I love the lady, but come on!” the blonde laughed and you felt your heart tighten slightly. It was always hard to face her, her resemblance to him haunted you every time, her long hair, those chubby cheeks, the way she smiled, but you could never tell her, no, she was separate from that family now, but you knew them too well to forget.  
“It’s fine, really, I didn’t have any plans anyways. Halloween is still a sore spot for me.” the laughter in your voice sounded so pained and you hated how your emotions would leak through, but she knew not to question it, letting you go on your way, two houses from hers.

It was cold and while you were thankful for the sweater the girls gave you, it wasn’t nearly enough to stop your shivering. Good thing you didn’t have a long way to go, but the chill on your spine was unpleasant never the less.

The door opened with the click of the key being twisted and complete darkness welcomed you inside, it was something you used to be scared of, but grew accustomed to, knowing where the light switch is, even if it was stupidly far from the door, a mistake of the past that was your father’s fault.   
With a flicker the living room came to your vision and you sighed at the mess, knowing damn well that this was exactly what three days of being a lazy, sad ass looked like. “I need to clean up, huh…” the plastic pumpkin in your hands slid onto a table as you bent down to undo your boots, just to sit down and ignore your own words, nothing new there. You could clean tomorrow, but today the energy to do anything was gone. 

Today was his favorite day, you remembered, cradling your knees up to your chest with a heavy sigh. Every year you’d go out together, along with his mom, since your parents were always unwilling to go, complaining how it was a pagan holiday and not something a proper Christian should celebrate, but they didn’t really stop you either, showed how much they cared.   
You two would always run ahead of his mom, only to hesitate before the doors, arguing quietly who’d be the one to ring, until either his mom caught up and did it herself or the ruckus you two were causing forced the inhabitants to open the door anyways, to find you and Michael pulling each other’s hair in a soft tugging war. Then, at the end of the night you’d sit together at the table, waving your legs and counting the candy you’ve gotten, sharing if either got less and you’d always take away his candy corn. He liked it, but not so much and he’d much rather have your jelly beans. It was never a fair trade, but the face he made whenever you agreed made you giggle like crazy.

The memories brought warmth to your face and soft tears to your eyes. You were well past crying, accepting what the boy you had spent your childhood with had done, and that you’d never see him again, with his mother gone there was no one to save him from the sanitarium and there was no way he could ever get out himself. Sure, he was always bigger and stronger than you, but he was also a chubby kid, other’s pushover and you doubted being held in a cell with mentally deranged people did him any good.

If only Loomis had allowed you to meet with him… But then you were too young, not even family, and now he said that “The boy’s just too dangerous.” and you had no right to oppose that statement.   
Michael would never hurt you and you’d never hurt him, you knew that, but the old man refused to listen.

* * *

Just as you were going to stand up, a soft thud alarmed you, coming from upstairs. A small grin rose on your left cheek. “Mikey?” You called out, thinking it was your cat, who you’ve named lovingly after your past friend, coming down from an evening hunt. You heard a loud meow from upstairs and rolled your eyes, he was being a little prince again, you figured, threw something off the shelf and now required your attention to bask in the mess he’s made. “Coming, baby… Don’t make any more mess, okaaaay?” a lack of response was normal procedure, so you threw the sweater still covering your body off, revealing an over sized Kiss t-shirt. Another thing that reminded you of him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to abandoning the band just because it hurt to remember. 

With a minute passed you walked into the upstairs bedroom, looking around to find your baby, surely enough finding him at the edge of the light that came from behind you, seemingly tense. “There you are!” you hummed, stepping inside the dark room, pulling Mikey into your arms lovingly. “Did you make a mess again, Mikey? You little rascal?” you cooed, but the cat wasn’t having it, his back tensing and hair shooting up, a low hiss and a mrow escaping it’s jaws. “What’s wrong, kitty? Is there a–” your head turned and rose to inspect the direction at which your cat was hissing, only to freeze in place, your hands opening enough for it to jump down, rising it’s spine near your now trembling legs, trying to defend you, the white spot in the dark resembling a head turning down to it, tilting to the side in confusion. “W…who…?” your voice snapped it’s attention back to you immediately, and your whole body trembled under it’s stare, your leg pressing lightly against Mikey to get him to run, your heart rising to your chest, beating in an almost painful manner. “S…sir? You… you shouldn’t be here…” You tried staying polite, letting your leg take a slow, almost unnoticeable step back, every muscle in your body ready to dash away. “How did you even…” you looked to the side and noticed an open window, which definitely was closed when you left. Closed, but not locked, you reminded yourself. “Oh…”

The next stop was definitely noticed and you could see the figure tense, shifting slightly forward, enough for you to make out it’s massive shoulders and fingers twitching against the handle of a… “Oh no…” you whimpered, noticing the red glint of a blade coated in gore. That was enough for you to bolt out, fighting your balance to not stumble onto a wall and instead bounce off it to grab onto the stair’s handrail and rush a few steps down.

The invader was way faster than you, though, grabbing onto the collar of your shirt and pulling you back, the impact making you scream out in pain as tour spine met the steps and then something grabbed onto your wrist and the back of your neck, dragging you up, your eyes closing in panic as you felt the hard surface of your attacker’s chest against your back and his arm and bicep holding your head still, his other hand shooting up to your arm, catching the elbow that tried to hit the man’s side, overpowering you all too easily and twisting your arm back, drawing another, softer scream out of you, followed by a whimper. 

“Please… Please no…” you begged softly, feeling the man’s face close to your neck, his chest pressing into your back a bit harder, his grip unrelenting and your eyes caught a glimpse of his knife again, held in the arm that was choking you still. “Please, please, please… what did I do?” you whimpered softly, letting your legs kick slightly against the handrail still in front of you, but a strong pull on your arm warned you to stop, so you did, still wriggling uselessly.

Then you heard it. It was small, naught but whisper, but growing louder, words, rasping, stuttering, sounding painful, as if the throat that spoke them hadn’t been used in ages, but the more they repeated the easier it got. A low, rumbling “ **Calm. Down.** ”, like a scratched record, playing on repeat, but slowly you obeyed and with every muscle letting up in your body, the hold on you lessened as well, to nothing more than an awkward embrace. You could swear you heard a sigh of relief coming from the person.  
“Are you… are you going to kill me?” against your better judgement you asked and you felt the head on your shoulder rise, shifting to his blade, before the arm around you sprung into movement, stabbing the weapon into a wall, returning to hold you again, and you felt your arm become free again, the assailant searching for something in his outfit. 

His hand rose before you, placing a piece of paper in your trembling palms, holding onto them for a second, as if trying to calm them down, a breath like a cuss escaping through what you now realized was a latex mask, and he moved away, giving you your space, but watching carefully from behind you, you could feel his gaze, there was no doubt about it.

Carefully you opened the gift, making sure not to rip it, too scared of what the man would do if that happened. And then your heart stopped, only to return with a beat much slower, softer than before, as you inspected the photograph, recognizing the people on it instantly. “Oh… that’s the Myers family…” you laughed quietly. “Deborah, little Angel and… and Michael…” your voice hiked speaking the boy’s name, still too close to your heart to speak of normally. There was some shifting behind you, something you understood as the nudge to continue and you’d realized that he might want you to tell you where they are. “If you’re looking for them… I… I can’t really help you, sir. Deborah is dead, committed suicide because of her grief, Angel is… she’s her own woman now, and Mikey he…” you felt tears swell up in your eyes, your thumb lightly brushing against the boy’s face, fighting to contain the shakiness in your voice. “He’s been taken away… And they won’t let me see him… I don’t even… God I don’t even know if HE’S ALIVE. I…” there sob that left you was ugly, but honest, speaking of ages of repressed emotions flooding your brain. “I’m sorry… I know I’m useless… I…” 

There wasn’t a proper ending for your sentence, as you felt the man’s weight on the floorboards behind you, pressing them in as his knees fell to the ground in a quiet thud, his hands then lifting your chin to look at him. You had never thought that seeing a pair of eyes could make your heart break, but it did.

Your gasp was audible and you could see the second of panic that reflected in them, his hands retreating hastily to his tights, letting you move on your own, to turn, to stare at him, even if his gaze wouldn’t meet yours again, to get closer, to touch his now sharp jaw, covered in a thicker stubble, to run your thumbs on his cheeks, his features relaxing under the much needed affection, he worry in his thick brows relaxing, as his whole body shuddered in relief, understanding that it had clicked, that you knew, his grayish-blue eyes rising again, and your mind filled with worry, seeing how tired he looked, mentally exhausted, even his long, dirty blonde hair reflected that, falling onto his shoulders in a cascade, tangled and wild. And finally your mouth moved. 

“Michael…?” you asked, shakily, feeling his hands wrap around your, swallowing them, fully. His nod was enough for your grip on his cheeks to tighten, taking in his image, he was so fucking beautiful, ragged, destroyed with time, but as angelic as you had remembered. “Oh god… OH FUCK Michael!! Mikey!!” you cried, crawling onto his shoulders, enveloping his head that rested anxiously on your chest, hugging tight, petting his hair and crying into it at the same time, but he let you, there was nothing he craved at this very moment more than your touch. “Michael, Michael I missed you so much!! I’m so sorry!! I’m so–” your forehead pressed against his, and he hushed you, his rough fingers moving onto your cheeks, swiping the tears away, a soft smile rising on his face, contradicting his rough features, his blues focused on you and you only, taking in the red of your cheeks, your quiet sobs and your warmth.   
And by hell, were you the most beautiful thing in the world for him now, the brightest star in this dark night. 

He tried to speak, but again his body betrayed him, sending him into a coughing fit, but this time you were there to catch him, pet his back with actual worry, treat him like a human, like he deserved your love and it broke him internally, allowing tears to creep their way from his eyes to your shoulder that he clung to in desperation, seeking out more of you unable to convey how much he missed this, you, next to him, protecting him from this world, telling him everything is fine, ignoring the blood on his hands, his disgusting, dirty body, the ugliness in his heart, just so he could feel safe. 

“Come on, Michael…” you sighed, trying to stand up, but to no avail, as he held you down and you pouted. “Mikey… you think you can just hold me down like that?” to your surprise he nodded his head, not moving it away from your chest, making you blush slightly at his stubbornness. “You… COME HERE!” and with that your hands rushed to his crow’s nest, ruffling it aggressively, creating even more mess and giggling like and idiot when his arms shoot up from you as he let himself fall in surprise, only catching your hands in a tight grip once his back hit the floor, keeping you above him and you yelped, starring down at him and his furrowed brows, letting a bright smile rise on your face, which got him a little confused.  
“Geez, Mikey… you really gotta cut off on wearing those masks…” you sighed, content, relaxing your hands, barely noticing the slight hint of anger mixing with worry in his eyes. “You’re beautiful without them.” And like in the past, a bit of blush shaded his face, his eyes moving away from yours in a silent panic, unable to take the complement, letting you fall onto his chest, strong and firm and oh so warm in this autumn night.

And you sighed, relaxing into it with a shy blush, realizing that you’re going to have to discuss a lot of things, but that could wait a bit, just a tiny moment. Right?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm planning on continuing this when I have more time, but with sessions season around the corner I won't have time to work on this :c


End file.
